


Please

by FlowerSkin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-07-24 01:53:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7488768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlowerSkin/pseuds/FlowerSkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>! I don't like rushing ito things, so if you like an actual story, then this is for you !<br/>ABANDONED</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter's just kind of to get things settled, but it gets more into place.

The last few weeks had been absolute Hell to Dean, despite the fact that he knew it was nothing compared. Every single night, he'd been having nightmares. Nightmares that make him sweat and groan and writhe in his sleep and have him screaming and/or crying himself awake. Sam worried endlessly about him, but "Ezekiel" would make him sleep at night, regardless of Dean. 

Dean had been able to handle all his memories of hell before, but now with the angels falling, Cas having lost his grace, and an angel being inside of Sam, his mental barrier had fallen. Worrying about Castiel's wellbeing and about Sam finding out the truth about the angel inside of him had really taken a toll on Dean. The fact that Crowley wouldn't quit stalling and trying to bargain instead of giving them anything to work off of didn't help. Kevin wouldn't stop riling Crowley up either, so that was definitely fun. 

The worst part of all of it, was that it was all making his mood and will steadily go down. He would've thought that all the responsibility would bring the man out of him, but unfortunately, it was making him it's bitch. He didn't want to admit it, but it was true. He couldn't handle it. Sam and Cas constantly told him that none of it was his fault and that none of it was on him, but he always ignored them, knowing they were just saying that. He knew it was all on him. He knew everything was mostly his fault.  
\---

His day had been complete shit. He had stayed in the main room practically all day, drinking and looking for another case. Kevin was busy trying to explain and show different things to Castiel all day, which Dean respected well enough, and Sam was actually nowhere to be seen. Honestly, he was bored, alone, and ... sad. He was lonely; considered going out and getting drunk, eating food, and hooking up... But if he was honest with himself, he didn't particularly want to.  
He poured himself another glass of whiskey, pouring far more than the usual amount. As Kevin walked around the bunker, he tried not to notice how much he was drinking, but Castiel did exactly the opposite. He pointed it out. Looking at Kevin and biting his lip, he looked back to Dean and walked over, hesitantly placing a comforting hand on Dean's shoulder.  
"Dean. How much you're drinking has led me to believe, because of the fact that I've seen this situation in films, that you are upset. Would you like to talk about it?"  
He had bent over a bit to get a clear look at Dean's facial expression. It didn't seem to pleased. Dean looked at Castiel, his eyebrows furrowed and whole face frowning.  
"No, now get lost, Cas."  
Castiel took his hand off of Dean's shoulder and Dean visibly relaxed a bit. He sighed and looked to Kevin, Kevin shrugging. Cas looked back at Dean again and hesitantly followed Kevin again, leaving Dean to sulk. Instead of staying there and doing just that, he decided to move this pity party to his bedroom. At least there, he wouldn't have to deal with Cas's sickeningly empathetic personality and Kevin's passive glances. He stood up and closed his laptop, picked up his whiskey bottle, and stormed off to his room. Kevin and Cas watched him go, watching how Dean mumbled angrily. A few seconds later, a door slammed, and there was silence. Kevin and Cas looked to one another and Kevin sighed.  
"Cas, I don't suppose you have ANY idea why Dean's bein' a dick?"  
Castiel considered this and nodded.  
"Dean's been suffering for quite a while. First his mother gone, then his father, then Ellen, then Jo, then-"  
"I got it, man, he's lost a lotta people. I get that. But he hasn't acted this way before about it, so why now?"  
Castiel sighed and shrugged a bit, honestly wishing he could still see into that head of Dean's.  
"That, I cannot tell you."  
\---

After quite a few hours of endless drinking and listening to the same song over and over again, Dean finally gave up. He was drunk, he was tired, he was lonely, he was depressed, and despite himself, he wanted his angel right now. He was hesitant about the last thing in his own mind, considering that Castiel wasn't necessarily the star friend of the year. All in all, though, he really didn't care. He liked Cas's company, and despite the way he acted towards it, Cas's literal taking on things and confusion amused him. At this point, he decided he might as well get up and get Cas. He tried to think beyond his mind fog where he had set up Cas and Kevin's shared bedroom as he stumbled down the halls, and eventually it came to him. He finally reached their room and he slowly opened the door without knocking. He used all of his power to go in quietly and steadily, making his way slowly to Cas's bed. Looking down at his angels sleeping form, gave him an odd type of comfort. His angel was a bit sprawled out, yet somehow had the blankets all bundled around him up to his neck. His face had an odd youth to it that wasn't there when Cas was awake. When Cas was awake, he looked like a real man who'd seen and done things and could get any woman he wanted. When he was asleep, he looked oddly enough like a child. He looked at peace and innocent in all form of the word. In an unironically ironic sense, he looked like an angel. His face looked gentle and smooth, and his lips were parted, and he looked in complete bliss. Dean couldn't help but just stand beside the bed and stare at him. He looked beautiful this way, but innocently. Not the kind of beautiful like he felt about the chicks he had stands with, but a true form of innocent beauty that didn't give you a hard on, but it made your heart, brain, and stomach swirl.

He hadn't realized he'd spaced out until his shoulder was being shaken and his name was being whispered repeatedly. He grunted and blinked a few times before being forced back into reality, locking eyes with Cas. Cas had woken up to see someone staring at him. It scared the shit out of him at first, but then he smelled the powerful whiskey and knew it was Dean. Dean didn't respond to a couple of things Cas said, so he had no choice but to stand up and shake him out of it. Dean groaned.  
"Quit shakin' me, Cassy, or 'll 'ave to kick yer ass."  
Cas just sighed and stopped, keeping his hands on his shoulders.  
"Dean, what are you doing in our room? Why were you staring at me while I rested?... And why are you so drunk that you sway?"  
Dean hmmed in an attempt to seem intelligent and thoughtful.  
"Cassy-cas, I'm verrry lonely n' I figured who else to bother than m' favorite lil winged boy?"  
Castiel couldn't help but smile at the thought.  
"Dean, it's the middle of the night and you need your rest. As do I."  
Dean just nodded slowly.  
"Mhm, there's my smart perfect lil angel, alllllways got tha good ideas."  
Dean fell forward abruptly and Castiel caught him with a grunt, displeased by the fact that Dean had passed out and that Castiel was nowhere near strong enough to bring him back to his room. He wondered how Dean was still holding on to his whiskey bottle and he took it from Dean's hand and set it down beside the bed, having difficulty keeping Dean up.  
"Damn it, Dean, why do you have to be so heavy?"  
He didn't expect a response, but regardless, he got Dean into his bed. He put his hands on his hips and looked down at the half naked, drunk Dean on his bed and he sighed. He thought about going to sleep in Dean's room in turn, but quickly decided it would be a bad idea. Dean didn't like anyone going to his room under any circumstances, and Dean had already kicked him out twice and didn't want to risk being kicked out again. His last resort, was the couch or to crawl in with Dean. Deciding that he was far too lazy to go out there and that he was far too scared of being alone in the dark to, he picked up the blanket and crawled in bed, back facing Dean. He covered Dean and himself with the blankets and sighed. At least Dean was warm. After staring at the far closet for a generous amount of time, he started to drift off to sleep, subconsciously pulling the blanket around his neck.


	2. Chapter 2

_!! CRACK !!_  
_Another strike in the chest; Dean cried out in pain. The man only laughed, and it deeply infuriated him._  
_"Shut the hell up," was all he could muster without feeling like he was going to die all over again._  
_Alastair mused at Dean's command, to which he replied with another-_  
_!! CRACK !!_  
_-scream out of Dean. He practically begged in his own way for Alastair to stop, but they both knew the deal._  
_"Oh Dean, you know that until you surrender, there's no WAY I'm going to stop. I'd think you know this, stud-muffin."_  
_Dean hated the way he talked to him so innocently, as if Alastair weren't torturing him enough; it made Dean sick, so he spit in Alastair's face. Alastair chuckled and pulled out a handkerchief, wiping the blood off his cheek._  
_"Now now, Dean, is that anyway to act towards the man who's allowed to rip you to shreds over and over again until you're begging for mercy?"_  
_"Go to hell, Alastair!" ... He obviously didn't think that through._  
_Alastair mused._  
_"Where do you think we are, Dean?! A jazzersize class?!"_  
_He laughed intimidatingly before picking up a thick blade from a cart of various tools and liquids. He adruptly stopped laughing and plunged the blade into Dean's bare chest. He screamed in pain, as Alastair slowly dragged the blade down, gashing through Dean's internal everything because of the depth. After a moment, he withdrew and wiped the blade off, crossing his arms and looking at Dean._  
_"Is saying 'no' really a more reasonable option than just surrendering to me? All you have to do is say yes, destroy a few [dozen] souls, and this doesn't happen any longer. It's easy, Dean."_  
_Dean coughed up blood and spit it on the floor, breathing heavily. He looked at Alastair with faded eyes and practically growled 'no.' Alastair shrugged with a small sound of disappointment, grabbing some mysterious cloudy greenish liquid._  
_"Suit yourself, friend."_  
_Alastair splashed it all over Dean. Before he could ask what it was, he was screaming in agony. His flesh was burning, and it didn't stop where it landed, it spread. Alastair smiled his shit-eating little grin and exited the room, saying 'toodles' before shutting the door. The burning was far different than he had ever endured, and he honestly wasn't sure he could handle this much longer._

\---

Everything hurt. The pain he felt everywhere was excruciating. He could no longer see where he was or what was happening, but everything burned. He screamed and carried on, feeling boiling hot in his skin and inside of his body. He was either sweating or crying. More likely, he actually WAS sweating. He definitely wasn't crying, no, somebody else was, but he could feel the water. A few people were moving around him quite swiftly, before a loud voice told the others to 'please leave.' Now he really wondered where he was. Relief washed over him when something or someone put a cold cloth on his forehead. The cold gave him tingles all throughout his body, and he realized that his atmosphere wasn't, in fact, boiling. Finally, he stopped shouting, the noise simmering to pitiful whimpers. His entire body was still aching, especially his throat. Despite that, he couldn't stop moving in fear that if he did, he would die. He heard a sigh followed by a sniffle, and suddenly felt a cold soft hand on his face. Their thumb pet his cheek, and in an odd way, he felt soothed. Whoever it was, as he didn't dare to open his eyes, cooed.

"Shhh, Dean, relax... It's your angel, 'Cassy.' Don't worry, you're okay. I'm not gonna let anything or anyone hurt you. You're alright, I promise."

Castiel bit his lip, a bit annoyed by the salty water that kept spilling from his eyes and falling on Dean's skin. He was sure Dean probably didn't care for it, and he was definitely sure he didn't either.

Dean listened to the words Cas spoke to him, and slowly, he was able to relax. He tried to be offended by the fact that a MAN was petting his face and whispering sweet nothings, but it was comforting, so he could honestly give a damn less. Coughing and grunting uncomfortably, he steadied his breathing and tried to make his heart rate drop. Once he gained proper mobility, he slowly lifted his arm, taking the towel from his forehead. He stretched a bit, noticing how quickly Cas moved his hand away. Dean frowned a bit and opened his eyes, looking at the ceiling. He blinked and looked at Cas, who was obviously trying to look like he hadn't been doing anything. Dean sat up slowly and looked at Cas, sighing deeply. He spoke in a dry, gruff voice, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

"Come here, Cas."

Cas was sitting in a chair a couple feet away from the bed, and had scooted back even further when Dean started moving. He nervously stood and came in front of him.

"Is there something you require, Dean?"

He looked up at Cas, his face miraculously unamused, as if he were annoyed that Cas had even spoken. He shook his head and stood up, Cas immediately closing his eyes and preparing for an act of violence. Instead, Cas was met with hands on his cheeks, and thumbs wiping his tears away. Dean sighed.

"Cassy, look at me."

Cas opened his eyes and looked at Dean, not missing the concern in his eyes.

"C'mon, why were you crying Cas? And don't give me any bullshit either, I'm not in the mood."

Cas bit his lip and looked off to the side.

"You were screaming, Dean, and you wouldn't cease. You... scared me. It was difficult waking up to hear someone I care about screaming bloody murder beside me. At first, I tried to say your name, but you payed no attention. I tried shaking you and yelling, but you were being heavily irrational. I didn't know what to do, and when Sam burst in, it made my stress worse. My eyes started leaking, and I felt like my heart was going to .... implode or something. Forgive me, Dean. I know you want no one to eye-leak on your behalf. Let alone ON YOU. I'm afraid I'm not manly enough to deal with these emotions."

Dean furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head.

"Cas, no, manly people can cry too. They just don't usually cry around other people because it makes them embarrassed. But you're different, Cas, you're so much more than manly. You're angelic. Don't give me any of that 'I'm not an angel anymore' crap, because I'm not havin' it. You are in my mind. I don't want any more of that 'I'm not manly enough' bullshit either. Don't apologize to me. I'M sorry I scared you."

Cas just stared at the wall, but Dean could tell he was listening. He sighed and wrapped his arms around Cas, embracing him. He had really wanted to thank Cas and tell him he was the best, and he definitely wanted to share a smile or a laugh, but that's not the Dean Winchester way of acting. Especially not with the angelic man-child companion. He supposed he didn't need to put any outward effort though, because when he pulled away from the hug, Cas was practically beaming. The smile was bright enough perhaps to light a whole room. Unfortunately a smile can't do that, but it DID light Dean's heart a reasonable amount, resulting in a smirk. But of course, this was the PERFECT time for Cas to remind Dean that he was half naked. 

"Dean... I observed how humans like to cover their bodies around other humans unless they're being intimate, and since we're not being intimate, I assume you would want to be clothed right now..." 

Dean looked down at himself and realized he was only wearing boxers; he mumbled some swear under his breath. With a small 'yep,' he walked passed Cas and went to his room, shutting the door behind him. He leaned against the back of the door and crossed his arms in thought, feeling really confused. 'And since we're not being intimate, I assume you would want to be clothed right now.' Jesus, did he really have to word it that way? That was really unnecessary... So why did it not make Dean uncomfortable? Screw it; like it mattered anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's based around Cas.

Cas was confused, as per usual. 

He had become extremely happy when Dean wiped away his tears and told him he was angelic and whatnot, and he wasn't entirely sure why. He liked that Dean's hands were gentle, but strong; that his voice was soft and reassuring, yet assertive; that his eyes were concerned and caring, yet intimidatingly not. How close he was to Dean the whole time didn't phase him either, and in fact, he liked the circulation of body heat and the way the air moved. He _definitely_ didn't mind Dean being half naked in front of him. 

Cas didn't like his thought process very much; too needy.  
\--- 

After Dean left his room, he stood there for a few minutes, processing what happened. His cheeks were tingling from the way Dean touched them, so Cas grunted and tried to wipe the tingle away. Everything about what just happened was _decent,_ but what pissed him off is that the room got at least 10 times colder in his absence. He sighed and looked around the room, finding his trenchcoat on a chair. Unfortunately he'd forgotten to give it to Sam, so the thing was still bloody and mucky. He sighed and looked at the ceiling, feeling exasperated and cold and he really really didn't appreciate it. 

"Damn you, Metatron, my toes feel like they could fall off at any given moment. My thanks to you... Assbutt." 

Huffing and deciding he might as well get actually dressed, he went to his drawers and pulled out some jeans and a shirt Dean bought him. After he got dressed, putting some socks on too, he left the room and made his way to the foyer. Apparently everyone felt the same, because Kevin was wearing a long-sleeve and had a blanket on the couch, and Sam was wearing at least 2-3 jackets. Dean was the rebellious one, because he was sitting at one of the tables, wearing just a tank-top and some strangely [Batman] printed bottoms with yellow and black bats. He hmphed.

"Dean. How is it that you're not cold right now?"

Sam answered before Dean could even look up.

"Man, Cas, I don't know, he's like a-a human heater or something. Like honestly, he never gets cold."

Cas huffed. 

"Well unfortunately for me, Jimmy Novak isn't exactly the same. And I have nothing to cover myself with, as my trenchcoat is ... unorthodox to be wearing in its state of filth."

Dean rolled his eyes, taking a drink from his whiskey and standing up. He walked over and passed Cas into the hall, going to his room. When he came out, he was holding a navy sweater that had been buried in his closet for forever [about 4 months really, since it's been about then since winter]. He tossed it to Cas, then went back to his seat, continuing whatever he was doing. Cas stood there for a moment before pulling the sweater over his head and adjusting it. The shoulders were too big, resulting in the sleeves being droopy and too long, and it was a bit long for his liking, but in all honesty, it was incredibly warm and the smell was, admittedly, intoxicating. 

"Smell good enough, Cas?"

He looked up to see a smirking Sam.

"Dean, I think he REALLY likes it." 

Dean looked up from his laptop, not missing the blush on Castiel's cheeks from Sam catching him. He looked at Cas and snickered a little at the fact that it was too big in all the wrong places for Cas. It was cute. He assumed that an angel of the lord wasn't really shooting for "cute" though, so he thought he'd make a suggestion. 

"You should roll up the sleeves a so they aren't so long on you. Unless you like it like that, I dunno."

He just shrugged and stared down at the screen of his laptop, taking another drink. Cas looked at Dean for a minute, before staring down at his sleeves and trying to decide whether or not to roll them. He decided he rather enjoyed their length, so he left them be and sat on the couch beside Kevin.  
Sam had it positively made out in his mind that he was going to make fun of Cas and Dean today for the sweater, and there was nothing that was going to top him. He sat down beside Cas and didn't speak for a moment. Cas looked at him, and that's when he decided to speak. 

"What does it smell like, Cas?"

Cas creased his eyebrows, not understanding Sam's fascination with his liking the smell. 

"Well, let's see here... It smells like... whiskey... gunpowder and... old leather. Small hints of weak cologne, lemongrass, and apple pie. It is truly an odd mix, but I find that it goes along quite perfectly. Maybe a little _too_ perfectly."

Cas smelled the sleeve of the sweater, closing his eyes and just practically bathing in the scent. Dean watched him, actually surprised that he could smell all those scents. It was kinda cool. He observed how much Cas liked that sweater and he thought for a moment.

"Go ahead and keep it, Cas, you made it creepy for me." 

He hid his smirk behind the cup as he took another drink, sighing when he set it down. Cas looked at him for a minute and then at Sam, who had a devilish look on his face. Again, Cas was confused. 

Kevin yawned and sat up properly, looking pretty tired. As he was starting to say something, Dean stood up and slammed his laptop closed. He started to move, but his leg caught on the chair, so he picked it up and threw it aside. He stormed off to his room, and Sam tried to say something immediately. 

"I- uh- Dean what's wr-"

"QUIET, BITCH." 

Dean slammed his door, and the whole bunker went deafeningly silent. Cas concluded, after a second, that Dean was **livid.** He was almost tempted to get up and follow him, to try to comfort him the way he had for him, but Sam put a hand in front of Cas's chest and shook his head. Sam got up off the couch and went over to Dean's laptop, opening it. The screen was messed up beyond everything, and there were a million colors and glitches, so nothing that he'd looked at before was recognizable. Sam sighed deeply and swore under his breath, closing the laptop again.  
\---

Luckily, Sam had let Kevin and Cas go outside of the bunker under his supervision for a little while, and they were all surprised to find that it was pretty warm out. It kinda made them wish they could stay outside instead of going back into that cold old bunker.  
Kevin was ind of just sitting out on the road, feeling the breeze and the heat of the sun. Sam was leaning against the Impala, hands in his pockets and looking after the two of them. His face looked different, oddly. Almost like he had gained some time of imported sophistication from just standing there. Cas didn't want to focus on it much, because he was having a little too much fun playing with bugs. Out of all the bugs, he'd have to say that bees were his favorite. Especially big ol' cartoon-y looking bumble bees. He actually laughed for his first time as a human, when two bees started flying around him trying to mate. It looked oddly cute to him and it made him genuinely happy. He looked over at Sam and saw that, for some reason, he was no longer present. He frowned immediately and stood, looking around. No Sam. Kevin was still sitting on the road, messing with the cracks. Cas didn't trust that fact that he was on heaven's most wanted list right now and that Kevin was a prophet and that they were alone together outside where anyone could get them, so he quickly rushed over to Kevin.

"Kevin, we have to get inside. Sam is gone, and we're unprotected." 

Kevin looked up at him and nodded, getting up. Cas looked around, knowing the door would be locked, and luckily Sam had left the key on the trunk of the Impala. Cas picked it up and unlocked the door, going inside with Kevin, which they were met with a blast of cold air. They both sighed in disappointment together, and went fully inside, closing the door and making sure it was locked. When they were satisfied, they went to the foyer of the bunker and sat down on the couch. Silence washed over them for a few minutes, neither of them speaking. Kevin finally broke the silence, after becoming unnerved. 

"So uh... Do you wanna watch anything specific?" 

Cas shook his head, looking at Kevin.

"Anything is fine. Cartoons are preferred." 

Kevin nodded and turned on the TV, turning it to Cartoon Network. An odd show was playing about a boy in a bear hat in love with a woman made of chewing gum. He observed that the boy had a talking magical dog with the voice of an adult. He was slightly amused by the fact that the dog was in love with a very long rainbow horse who spoke Korean. He was fond of her, because she said some particularly funny things. What was even funnier, is that Kevin and the bear hatted boy were confused by her native tongue. In reply to something the horse woman said, Kevin laughed, though he didn't understand a word. Cas smiled a little and looked at him, tilting his head. Kevin looked at him.

"What, it sounded funny."

Cas chuckled quietly and nodded.

"Yes, I suppose it is amusing that it had diarrhea."

Kevin immediately got confused and looked at him.

"I understand all languages, Kevin."

Kevin just nodded and went back to the cartoon, Cas just laughing quietly, almost under his breath.  
The two boys continued to watch cartoons, until they heard a sound from one of the hallways closest to the exit. It sounded like bottles or some form of glass being broken. Kevin and Cas traded looks and stared at one another for a moment, as if telepathically arguing over who goes to check. Cas finally stood up after a minute and headed quickly towards the hall, weaving his ways through the odd turns until he found where the sound was coming from. It was Dean's room. As he heard another bottle break, he flinched and approached the door, pressing his ear to it. Dean was grumbling a lot of vulgar things as usual, but a familiar name came up repeatedly. Cas immediately grew confused, as Dean hadn't talked about the girl for a long long time. Lisa Braeden. He was bumbling things about her son Ben too, and he could hear him go silent for a moment before saying "Hello?" Cas decided to eavesdrop, so he better knew the situation. 

"Hey. Is this Ben?" 

Dean already knew the answer, but he recalled that Ben didn't have a damn memory about him. 

"Um yeah, this is Dean Winchester, I uh... I wanted to send my condolences. How did I know your mom? Well I uh... I was the one who... crashed into your guyses car. You don't remember and neither did she, but we used to be... really good friends." 

Not wanting to bear through the conversation any longer, Dean, like a douche-bag, hung up. Cas put two and two together and nodded to himself, waiting a moment, with anxiety, before he knocked on the door. He heard Dean sigh heavily, and say "KEVIN, GO AWAY." Cas swallowed hard and spoke in an almost sheepish tone.

"Dean... It's Castiel. I j-just wanted to uh... To make sure you were okay, I-I heard the-the glass breaking." 

Silence ensued, and Cas wasn't sure whether to leave or wait, so he decided to wait. After a moment, Dean opened the door and looked at Cas, tears falling shamelessly from his eyes. The sight clutched Cas's heart, and all he could think to do was what he'd seen in the movies. He hugged him, his heart beating rapidly because he didn't know whether or not it was the right thing to do. He found himself relieved, though, when Dean reciprocated. After a moment, Castiel swallowed and decided to offer.

"Do you wanna talk about whatever it is that's troubling you?"

Dean paused in thought and sighed deeply. 

"If you tell anyone what we talk about in here, I swear there will be consequences."

With that, he pulled Cas into the room and shut the door, locking it.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam was having a dilemma. 

When he looked around him, he seemed to be in a homeless peoples turf. There were sleeping bags, flimsy metal barrels, and graffiti everywhere. Under further deduction, he found himself to be under a highway in a weird off-road area. 

This usually happened to him three times a week, at the least. He would be minding his own business, then suddenly he'd be in some completely different area or situation with no recollection of how he got there. It was aggravating to say the least. He decided to walk a bit to figure out where he was, before he decided to contact anyone. He found a high-way sign, and apparently he was in some off place in Nebraska. How the hell did he manage to get to Nebraska without the Impala? And it was still day time, too. 

Curious. 

Remembering what he was doing before he got there, his heart sank to his stomach. He was supposed to be looking after Cas and Kevin, and now he was here. He hoped they were okay. He felt around all his pockets, slightly relieved, figuring he must've left the key so they could go in. He hoped Cas or Kevin was responsible and detail oriented enough to know that if Sam isn't there, then they should go inside. He pulled out his phone and it beeped. 24 messages mixed from Dean, Kevin & Cas. He sighed deeply and decided to call Dean. He waited as it rang, but nobody picked up the phone. He rang Cas, but he didn't pick up either. Finally, he rang Kevin, which, thank God, picked up. 

"Hey, Kev, are you and Cas okay?"

"Yeah, Sam, we're good. I think... I haven't seen Dean and Castiel in a bit. Dean was mad about something or whatever and Castiel went to go check on him. I haven't heard anything from Dean's room since. I haven't seen either of them either. I'm sure they're fine though, probably just busy."

Both of them chuckled, knowing how wrong it seemed. Sam sighed.

"Okay, well... Could you try to go get them? I have no idea where I am and I need Dean to pick me up."

Kevin hummed in response and took the phone away from his ear, getting up off the couch and going back towards the guys' room. He could hear noises coming from Dean's room, and he hoped to God it wasn't what he thought it was. He knocked, and suddenly the sounds became muffled. Someone got up off the bed and came to the door. It was Cas, and he was fully clothed and fine, blocking the view from Dean. 

"Hello Kevin, what is it?"

"Uh, Sam called. He wants to talk to Dean." 

Kevin tried to look over Cas's shoulder at Dean, but Cas moved so he couldn't see. Castiel just death stared at him and shook his head a little. That was certainly all Kevin needed to back off. He handed his phone to Cas, and Cas shut the door in his face. Kevin blinked a couple times before throwing his hands in the air and stalking back to the foyer, mumbling about how Cas stole his phone. 

Castiel sighed, looking at Dean. Dean was a hot mess. He was puffy, red, and had tears pouring from his eyes. He was extraordinarily vulnerable, and it made Cas almost sick to see him like that. He sighed, covering the microphone part of the device.

"Dean, Sam's on the phone. He wants to speak with you. Please, Dean. I don't think Kevin would have bothered us unless it was important."

He spoke softly- or as soft as Cas with his gruff deep voice could- and tried to smile a bit at Dean. Dean looked at him and wiped his eyes, sniffling and trying to seem macho. Cas gave him the phone and Dean spoke after a minute.

"What's up, Sammy?"

"Uh... Dean, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Sam, what is it?"

"Uh.. Okay, anyway, I don't know what happened but... I guess I'm lost. You think you could come get me?"

Dean sighed almost a whimper and looked at Cas, who gave him reassuring glance. 

"Yeah, where?"

"Off some highway in Nebraska in some homeless pit. The sign above me on the road says something about Omaha? I dunno, Dean, I'll walk up to the road and wait. I know it's the highway that connects to Kansas, so it won't take too long I hope." 

"We'll be there in a minute." 

He hung up before Sam could ask what _we_ meant. Dean set down the phone and put his face in his hands, rubbing it slowly and breathing. Cas didn't say anything, just rubbed and patted Dean's shoulder a bit. Dean finally got up after a minute and put his jacket on, leaving his room with Cas behind him. In the middle of the hallway, Dean stopped Cas and looked him right in the eye. 

"If you tell anyone about this, I-"

"I won't, Dean," Cas said softly.

"Promise?"

Cas nodded and Dean sighed a bit in relief, continuing down the halls. Cas smiled secretly, more like grinned, very pleased that Dean trusted him with seeing such a trivial happening. WHen they went into the main room, Cas decided to tell him what they're doing so Dean didn't have to, and threw Kevin his phone. They told him they'd be back with Sam in a bit and then left, Dean telling Cas he could ride shotgun this once.   
\---

Kevin had an advantage for once.

He was alone. With Crowley. In their dungeon. How much better could it get? After all, Crowley DID owe him information, and Kevin owed Crowley a kick in the ass. 

He got off the couch and made his way down to room 7B. When he opened the doors, he found that the shelves were already pulled out. Someone had either been there recently, or Crowley had escaped. But no, Crowley was still sitting in that chair, chained, cuffed, and collared up. He hummed, deciding to deal with the first idea, though, he didn't know why anyone would be interested in what Crowley has to say, especially when he doesn't have any crucial info right now. Crowley opens his eyes and hums, smirking at Kevin. 

"Kevin? Well isn't this a treat. First a tall one with long hair, now an Asian in a pixie cut, how nice."

Kevin was always disgusted when Crowley did that. But he _was_ intrigued. When he said "the tall one with the long hair," he knew immediately that he was referring to Sam. He wondered though, what was Sam doing talking to Crowley? Deciding to let the "Asian in a pixie cut" thing pass, he spoke.

"Why was Sam down here?"

"Hm?"

"You said a tall one with long hair. The only one here like that is Sam."

"Yes, Moose. He payed me a little visit the other day and forgot to move the shelves. Nothing special you should worry your pretty little head about." 

Kevin huffed and crossed his arms. 

"What did he come here for anyway?" 

Crowley did his best attempt at a shrug. 

"To talk. I'm awfully lonesome down here, and he knows it. So he talks to me. Again, nothing special." 

Kevin was satisfied then, though, not understanding why Sam would give a good God damn about _Crowley's_ needs, of all peoples. He shook his head and sighed.

"Okay so now what I REALLY wanna know. Where's my mom?" 

Crowley pursed his lips, looking at Kevin with his head tilted, something stupid girls usually did to get boys attention.

"Alive. Or Dead. I don't remember anymore, too insignificant." 

Kevin clenched his fist, but did nothing. He knew beating Crowley up wouldn't solve anything. Besides, Crowley would probably just find some way to make it sexual or enjoyable for himself. Bastard. Kevin, instead, took a deeP breath and let his anger go. He walked out and turned off the lights, earning a groan from Crowley.

"Oh come one rice cakes, can't you at least keep the lights on and be a good ol' chap?"

"Screw you, Crowley." 

Kevin smiled mockingly at Crowley and closed him in the shelves, leaving Crowley to shout after him.   
\---

By the time Dean and Cas had arrived, the sun was setting. Dean was still a bit on edge, but Castiel being there was helping him an awful lot.   
Cas pointed out the sign overhead, saying something about Omaha, so Dean pulled off an exit and parked aside the road. It was a bit of a walk to get where Sam was now, but Dean didn't care. Getting up, moving, and getting fresh air that's not blown harshly through the window would be nice right now. 

Sam waited for the boys, sitting up against a wall covered in graffiti that spelled out "cunt." The area spelled like piss, drugs, trash, body odor, and various smells of burning somethings. It was a tiny piece of hell waiting here, having all these homeless people stare at you. Some, he swore, were even eye-fucking him. It was unsettling to say the very _least_. He just hoped that Dean  & Cas would hurry the hell up before he got mugged. 

Dean turned off the Impala and slowly got out of the car, Cas following. They didn't even talk as they began to approach the said homeless area, that is, until Cas did. 

"Dean, would you like me to sit in the back seat once we retrieve Sam?"

Dean looked at him and shook his head.

"You can stay in the front."

Cas knew that he really meant 'I **want** you to stay in the front,' but he said nothing and nodded.   
They continued walking, Cas just looking over at the sunset, able to see the colors even though there was a road and trees and a mound in the way. He honestly didn't mind, because the sun-sight was overrated anyway. All that mattered were the colors. Dean, however, was watching Cas. His eyes always seemed so big when he was watching something he cared about. That's how Dean knew Cas cared about _him_. All in the eyes. He bit his lip then, because he realized how Castiel's eyes were sparkling as well. He only knew one other person whose eyes sparkled like that during the sunset, and all at once, he was getting upset again. Dean huffed a little, and Cas blinked, looking at him. 

"Dean, are you alright?"

Dean almost said he was, before Cas sighed and stopped, pulling him in for a hug. Every since he lost his grace, he understood why people hugged one another. It was comforting and it showed the person that you cared; at least in his experience. It took a moment, but Dean hugged him back, tighter than he would've thought. It made him grunt uncomfortably because of how strong Dean is, but he dealt with it and hugged him tighter to try to match. He underestimated how weak his vessel was. After a moment, he pulled away, knowing it's uncomfortable for men to have other men hugging them longer than is necessary. Patting his shoulder, he gave him a small smile.

"You don't have to tell me what's upsetting you, but regardless, I'm here. Always." 

Dean nods, shrugging his hand off his shoulder. He never likes the lingering touches, even the ones of comfort. Especially not from Cas of all people. Cas doesn't seem offended though and nods curtly, continuing the walk. Dean's still incredibly upset, though. It's not something you can get over so easily; what's in his mind. He loved her, and he tried to have a normal life with her, but he knew it couldn't stay. So why had he even bothered? That was the real question here, why had he even bothered. He had put her and the lil tyke in danger, and now-- 

He had to stop thinking about it. For God's sake, it's not macho to cry. He wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands, and walked beside Cas. Thinking of the girl he almost shared a life with and lost because he was an idiot, he made a promise. He knew Cas wouldn't hear his promise, and he'd NEVER verbalize the promise, but that was fortunate. He promised that from now on, he'd **always** look out for Cas, regardless of anything else- except of course his brother- but anything _else_ , and that was pretty considerate. 

As soon as they reached the lot, Sam was to his feet, groaning in relief. 

"Thank God you guys are here, I've been waiting all-" 

He noticed the strain in Dean and the way Cas looked so worried towards him. 

"Dean are you alright?"

Dean nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, Sammy, I'm fine. Let's worry about _you_ right now, you okay man?"

Sam looked uneasy, but nodded. 

"Yeah I'm... fine, I'm just pretty hungry." 

He smiled a little, amused by himself and Dean couldn't help but smile and pat Sam's shoulder. 

"Alright, come on man, let's go get some hamburgers or whatever rabbit food you're cravin'." 

Sam just chuckled and looked to Cas.

"So Cas, what's up with you?" 

"Sam, the sk-" He grunted and blinked a couple of times. "Nothing. The entirety of my time has been spent speaking to Dean and Kevin. Mostly Dean." 

Sam nodded. 

"Anything interesting?"

"No," Cas answered flatly. 

Sam just scoffed a little and shook his head, almost getting into the front seat, before Dean stopped him. 

"Actually, Sam, Cas is gonna sit in the front tonight. He's done a really good job being productive today." 

Sam blinked in confusion and then just smiled. "Alright..," and he got in the back. 

On the drive home, he definitely doesn't miss the way Cas rubs circles in the back of Dean's spare hand.   
\---

They'd gone out for food before going to the bunker, but once they had, Dean immediately went to bed because he was exhausted, and Cas sat on the couch with Kevin and watched old late-night shows and they both looked pretty tired and he wouldn't be surprised if they fell asleep there. Sam took the opportunity to do something anyone else would consider shady. 

He made his way down the various halls of their concrete "palace", until he reached the room he'd been looking for. Room 7B. He opened the door quietly and closed it behind him the same, not turning on the lights. Crowley, of course, was very observant though. 

"Is that you, Kevin, back for more?"

"Afraid not."

"Moose?!" 

Crowley was uncomfortable with how bubbly he felt to hear Sam's voice and decided to swallow the weird sensation.   
Sam chuckled and turned on the lights, opening the shelves with a smile. The air from opening the shelves so fast made Sam's hair flutter for a moment, and Crowley couldn't help but notice. 

"Did you miss me?" Sam asked mockingly at Crowley, walking in and shutting the shelves behind him. 

"Marginally," Crowley replied with his trademark smirk, trying to pass as cool.

"You're full of shit." 

At that, Crowley broke and chuckled a bit. "Perhaps." 

Sam stood in front of him with his hands in his pockets and sighed. 

"And I guess you want me to take these bonds off you?"

Crowley looked up at him, non-expectantly. 

"Whatever floats your boat. Though I'd like to think bonds are kinkier." 

Sam seemed unamused. 

"In that case," He undid Crowley's bonds, taking his sweet time. "you're free to move." 

Crowley frowned. "Moose, taking all the fun out of it." 

Sam snorted. "All the fun? I wouldn't say that." He opened the shelves a bit and returned under a minute later with a full bottle of scotch, closing the doors behind him.

"Technically you're not _supposed_ to have fun down here, but we can spare to break the rules a couple times." 

Crowley smirked and pulled a couple of glasses out from underneath the chair where they'd decided to put them after last time, and he had the decency to wipe the rims of the glass from the dirty concrete floor. 

"I never saw you to be a man who went against Squirrel's wishes not to have much interaction with demons." 

Sam hmphed laughily and smirked. "I never saw myself to be the man who had much choice _not_ interacting with demons." 

Crowley chuckled. "Fair enough." 

Sam opened the bottle and poured them both a 'healthy' amount, taking drinks at the same time. 

For a few hours, they sat there and talked, drinking until they felt tipsy and decided to stop until they felt normal enough again to keep going. Their time there tonight ended with a certain touch and a flushed Sam closing the shelves behind him and closing his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose. 

Though, if anyone were honestly displeased here, it was Gadreel.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter was SO DAMN LATE, I've been busy with high-school & art & being tired and shit.  
> If you like this fanfic, please give it some good feedback so I'm not wasting my passion for nobody!

Every time Dean had free time, it was 'Another slice can't hurt.' 

And we're not talkin' pie. 

He'd told nobody why he was feeling so down, and in fact, he gave them mostly no reason to assume he was down in the first place. Everything was a secret, even with Cas, who'd assumed he knew. 

Nah. Nobody knew and nobody could tell. Dean doubted anybody would care if they knew either. Maybe Sam, but that's just because they're brothers. It isn't personal, it's just family. He was convinced that's the only reason Sam cared in the first place.

His stomach was completely a chop board now, 'cept with blood and skin. 

He'd seen it on different programs and websites where the kids would use their arms or their thighs, but he thought that was stupid. If he were to do this type of thing on his arms, everyone would know immediately and it'd be a huge inconvenience. If he were to use his thighs, well, then he couldn't do anything comfortably. Upon choosing the area above the stomach organ, though, the marks would remain unobtrusive; Camouflaged from everyone else. In fact, _he_ wouldn't hardly notice them because nothing but his shirt would touch them. 

It was pretty much a solid marking plan... Until Cas caught him. 

***

'Of course,' Gadreel thought to himself, having to listen to Kevin's nonsense, 'he requires my assistance NOW when I'm conversationally engaged.' 

He decided, lips pulled to a straight line, to interrupt Kevin.

"Kevin, I must take my leave. I had just remembered that we are low on ... Kale. I should go now, before it escapes my mind." 

Kevin was a bit wary, but before he could slip a word in edgewise, 'Sam' was off. Kevin just shrugged and started doing whatever he was originally doing, even though it was tedious. 

***

His office, as usual. Metatron never thought to meet Gadreel in any easier place; then again he was never known to be an easy person. 

"Gadreel, Hello, still using Sam Winchester's meat suit I see."

"I do not have another choice as of now. I promised the elder Winchester brother that I would heal Samuel."

Metatron just simply rolled his eyes, waving his hand, as if dismissing the topic. 

"I didn't call ya to hear all that nonsense, so let's get down to business. You want my trust, right? To renew your worth and be allowed back into heaven without _anything_ against you, right?"

Gadreel gave a curt nod in response.

"Good, then I have something special just for you." 

Metatron gave an ironically devilish little smile, seeming to pull a small yellow piece of paper out of nowhere and putting it in Gadreel's hand.  
All that was written on the note was some name.

Gadreel scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion and looked back at Metatron, about to ask before Metatron put his hand up. 

"It's a task."

"I do not follow."

"Well, it's simple. You track down the person on the little yellow card, and you eliminate them. Easy-peasey."

Gadreel's scrunch turned into a furrow. 

"Metatron, I do not wish to _murder_ innocent people, just so you can feel dignified. It seems rather servile and frankly, _un_ dignified." 

Metatron leaned back and rolled his eyes, sighing deeply. 

"Gadreel, do you want to be liberated and have a seat up here with me, or do you want to stay in the gutters where everyone thinks you're the person who ruined everything?" 

Gadreel paused, pressing his lips into a straight line and narrowing his eyes. 

"Fine." 

With a wave of dismissal from Metatron, Gadreel vanished, arriving at the house of whom he supposed would only be his first victim. 

*** 

Castiel watched Dean, now.

In fact, he did it frequently ever sense Dean became so sad. 

He was the only one that knew, even thought he didn't know _why_. Never did he ask, though. He **would** never ask either. He knew whatever it was, was already paining Dean enough.

Though, Castiel supposed, Dean _did_ seem to be at least acting better. He wasn't crying when nobody was looking, and he didn't seek physical comforting anymore. Plus Dean was actually laughing more.

Castiel assumed that Dean was mostly fine, but he watched him anyway because he worried. Besides, he was Dean's friend. What was he supposed to do, just leave him to wallow in his own emotions while he stands idly by? Hell no. 

Dean was working on the Impala now, outside of the bunker. Apparently, something was wrong with the engine or something or other. Castiel shamelessly wasn't paying attention to the explanation. 

Being a human was rather difficult, Castiel concluded, because he couldn't wear usual attire without feeling like he was going to die of heatstroke under the beating afternoon sun. He had to wear these odd summer clothes Sam stole from Dean's closet and gave to him; they fit oddly. A white Wife-beater, some odd-fitting charcoal coloured cargo shorts, &  
some black ankle socks. Sam provided the older beaten-up sneakers he'd grown out of, and Castiel positively _loathed_ the attire.  
He'd much rather of preferred clothing that the kids these days call, 'edgy.' 

Dean slid out from under the car on his creeper and sighed, looking to a staring Castiel. 

"Stop starin' at me, Cas, it's creepy."

"Forgive me, Dean. I had forgotten." 

"It's cool. Could you hand me a beer?"

Castiel nodded and wrenched a beer out of the odd cardboard beer-holding contraption. Once he successfully broke all three cardboard barriers in the line, he moved over to Dean and handed the beer to him, trying to look casual. Honestly, he felt far from casual. He felt odd. I mean, he'd never really showed that much skin in front of other humans before. It wouldn't of been a problem if he were an angel. He wouldn't care then, but now he was a human. Had all these... _feelings_ , and ideas about some non-existent morals he supposed he secretly had. 

Dean grabbed the beer, staring at Castiel for a moment before twisting the cap off and throwing it off somewhere in the grass. He looked away once he started drinking, gulping down to the bottom of the ribbon in one sit. Castiel was slightly astonished, but not too much, considering that Dean was practically an alcoholic without the "drunk all the time." 

Finally, when Dean set the now mostly empty bottle down, he breathed a giant breath of satisfaction. 

"Thanks Cas, you're a life saver." 

Castiel smiled softly and sat back, putting his hands in his lap awkwardly. 

"You're welcome, Dean. My pleasure." 

Dean nodded. After a moment, he decided to stand, making sure not to slip on the creeper. His shirt had a few motor oil stains, fingers covered in black. He sighed, and by the state of him, he looked dirty and miserable, drenched in sweat. 

Honestly though, it kind of amused Castiel. 

"Dean, I can't help but notice that you look like shit." 

He awkwardly half grinned like he usually does, which cause Dean to chuckle. 

"Wow, thanks Cas, knew I could count on you for a damn pick-me-up." 

Smirking and shaking his head, he lifted up the bottom of his shirt to wipe away all the sweat and bits of black dust. 

Castiel was fine at first, until he was able to see him. The uplifting gave clear vision of his scars. As if Dean finally realized that he'd exposed himself, he dropped his shirt quickly and cleared his throat, walking towards the door to the bunker. Castiel _obviously_ wasn't giving up that easily, so he followed right back after him, saying his name quite a few times with no response. 

They were both inside now, half way deep into the plethora of halls when Castiel finally got ahold of Dean. He grabbed Dean by the shoulder and yanked him around to face him. Dean of course tried to go back around anyway, but Castiel stopped him immediately and made him look at him. 

"Dean, this is ridiculous and childish. Stop running from me. Now, show me those marks." 

"Cas-" 

"Dean." 

Castiel stared at Dean with a condescending air of superiority that had seemed forgotten until then, with a look that clearly said "it was a demand, not an offer." 

Dean sighed, mumbling under his breath, and reluctantly lifted his shirt. Castiel crouched a bit to better inspect these marks, frowning. Obviously self harm. 

In heaven, he'd watched over a lovely depressed youth. She had pretty red hair that fell down to her elbows, and she seemed like such a strong and fine young woman. That is, until he was proven wrong by the fact that she was cutting. She chose her thighs, because all she ever wore were loose basketball shorts anyhow, it didn't effect her. One night, after a week or two of cutting, she actually prayed. She was crying; it was evident in her voice, and she prayed to anyone who'd listen. Apparently, while everyone was busy, it happened only to be him listening. She prayed that someone would just help her and stop all the agony, and it almost made Castiel emotional. It sounded weird to say, but he was a tiny bit relieved when she offed herself a few days later. She came to heaven of course, and her suffering was over. Castiel had a long conversation with her when she arrived, and they'd become friends. He hadn't seen her up there in such a long time... 

He grumbled, standing up straight and looking at Dean in the eyes. 

"Dean... Why are you hurting yourself?" 

Anyone else, and Dean would've shoved him away or told him to fuck off. He wouldn't of listened to a damn word, or let anything hit him. But this was Cas; his angel and his best friend. The question hit him like a ton of bricks, knocking the air out of his lungs, and making him feel exactly one pump from his heart throughout his whole body. He didn't want to meet Castiel's eyes because honestly, he was _ashamed_ of himself. 

"Cas, you wouldn't-" 

"Understand? I was brought into existence _far_ before you were even inserted into God's plan. I have seen **everything** there is to see, and I understand most things there are to understand. Don't tell me that I won't understand, Dean. When I raised you from perdition, I bonded with you spiritually. Anything that you feel, I can understand. It's wired in our spirits. Now tell me, _why?_ " 

It was obvious that Castiel wasn't going to give up. Dean bit his lip and closed his eyes tightly, clenching his fist. 

"Damn it Cas," he said before opening his eyes once again, "Lisa is dead and Ben is n the hospital, probably just _waiting_ to die, and I can't do a damn thing about it. Cas, Ben doesn't even know who I am anymore. Do you understand _that?_ Do you understand how god damn painful it is? I loved them so much, and now this has happened, and it's all my fault!" 

At that point, Castiel grabbed him by the shoulders and momentarily invaded his personal space. 

"Dean, none of what has happened is our fault. I understand completely how you're feeling. Contrary to what the world is having you think, you cannot control fate and order, Dean. If it was meant to happen, it was meant to happen. It would have happened to them anyway, regardless of you in the equation. It's the way it works, Dean. You are not responsible for everything bad that happens. You're only a man. You can't save everyone. Not all the time." 

Dean wanted to protest, but he just stared at Castiel for a few moments. He shook his head helplessly, pulling Castiel closer into a hug. Castiel was never good at hugs, but he tried to remember what Sam had pointed out to him a while ago. Arms around the torso; and he did. 

After a moment in the hug, he found himself being swayed a bit. Dean honestly needed this so badly that he was gripping Castiel like he might fly away, and they were _swaying._ Castiel found this swaying concept odd, but he let it happen because it made his head swim for (ha) heaven knows why.


End file.
